


to be a king;

by kinneyb



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, F/F, Forced Marriage, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Prince Eliot Waugh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21611053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: Eliot was twelve years old when his father sat him down and told him: when you're sixteen, you'll get married.
Relationships: (Brief/implied) Fen/Eliot Waugh, Fen/Margo Hanson, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	to be a king;

**Author's Note:**

> hewwo i hope u enjoy this fic i worked very hard on it  
> feel free to follow me on twitter @ queermight

Eliot was twelve years old when his father sat him down and told him: _when you're sixteen, you'll get married_. 

He was just a child at the time and he thought his father was surely joking, right? So, he laughed, a bit awkward, entirely forced. 

"Eliot," his father had said, sternly, making him shut up. "This is not a laughing matter."

"But- but father," he argued weakly, hands curling into fists in his lap. He wished, not for the first time, his mother was still alive. "Who? I- I don't even- "

He'd had crushes, yes, but they'd all been frowned upon by his father. Like the stable boy they'd fired after his father said, word for word: _I think you two are getting a little too friendly._

"Yes, I know," his father continued breezily. "You haven't met her yet."

Eliot couldn't believe it. He stared at his father, waiting for an explanation. 

"Fillory needs a new king," he started, placing a firm hand on Eliot's shoulder. "I'm getting too old; your mother is gone- " Eliot stiffened "- so as soon as possible, you will be taking over the throne."

He had always known he would be king one day, of course, but he never realized that meant he had to get married. "Can't- can't I marry Margo?" he asked in a small voice.

He wasn't in love with Margo, but he loved her and she loved him. It would be enough.

"Eliot," his father said, squeezing his shoulder a little too hard. "Please, you can't marry a servant, no matter her beauty."

Eliot frowned. Margo was not just a servant; she was his best friend. "Yes, father," he muttered, full of dread. There was no arguing with his father.

"Good," he said, squeezing his shoulder one last time before letting go. "You may go now, Eliot. We'll discuss this more later."

That night, he snuck out to the garden with Margo. He told her everything, eyes swelling with tears. She frowned and grabbed his hand, squeezing.

"We won't let this happen, El," she said

Margo had a way about her: she always seemed like she was capable of anything, even at just thirteen years old. Eliot knew better, but. He couldn't help dreaming.

"I- I don't want to marry a stranger," he muttered, looking into her big eyes. Then, softer, "especially a girl."

His father would never accept him. He knew that. 

Margo, however, had accepted every part of him since they met. "We have four years, El," she said, exuding confidence Eliot wish he felt. "We'll find a way."

He nodded silently. Margo sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder.

+

Eliot didn't hear about it again for months. Things changed, however, on his thirteenth birthday. He had a party with a few friends.

Kady and Penny and Josh and, of course, Margo.

The party was fun, a little boring because his father was always so obsessed with keeping up their image even during private events.

Finally though things started to quiet down; the guests father had invited were all royalty and left early on, saying they needed rest and had things to do.

Eliot hurdled up in a corner with his friends, laughing and playing games.

"Eliot," his father stopped near them on his way out. "I have something for you."

He perked up, expecting a present. Instead he was handled a folder. He stared at it.

"What is it, father?" he asked, already dreading the answer. 

His father smiled politely. "I thought you'd prefer having some information about your fiancée." Eliot looked up at him, at a loss for words. "Was I wrong?"

Eliot swallowed around the lump in his throat. "No, sir," he whispered, looking down again. He slowly opened the folder; a young girl stared back at him. His eyes flickered to her name: _Fen_. 

"Well," his father said. "Have fun, children."

All his friends were quiet until his father finally left the ballroom. Margo reached out and touched his shoulder. 

"El," she said, sounding worried. Margo almost never sounded worried; she was his rock.

Penny leaned forward and peered over Eliot's shoulder. "Fiancée?" he asked. 

Right, Eliot hadn't told them. Only Margo. He took a shaky breath and closed the folder. "I'm getting married," he muttered. "When I turn sixteen."

"What?" Kady asked, sounding truly scandalized. "To- to who?" She snatched the folder from him and opened it, squinting. "Who is this?"

Penny scooted closer to her and looked too. "Eliot, I thought you were- "

He flushed, ashamed and embarrassed and _angry_. "I am!" he said, a little too loudly. "But my father doesn't care- he says I have to do what's right by the kingdom and- and a prince who marries a boy isn't- isn't _right_."

Margo cupped his face and turned him toward her, her eyes on fire. "Your father is wrong," she said, back to her usual self. "You know that, right?"

Eliot nodded mutely. Penny squeezed his shoulder. 

"Sixteen, right?" Josh said, finally speaking. He scooted closer. "That's- a while, right?"

Eliot looked up. Josh smiled at him, encouragingly. He nodded. "Yeah," he answered quietly.

"That's plenty of time, then," Josh continued, patting his leg. 

He looked around at all of his friends and swallowed back the sob clawing up his throat.

"Thanks, guys."

Margo smiled, a little too soft, unlike her, and pulled him into a hug. He hugged her back.

Eliot stayed up that night and flipped through the folder. Fen was a little younger than him and lived faraway, over the waters. She wasn't royalty, exactly, but she came from a long line of royalty.

She was pretty, he knew that. Pale with bright blue eyes and curly, light hair falling into her thin face. Eliot wished he found her as pretty as he knew he was supposed to.

Someone knocked on his door and he startled, stuffing the folder under his pillow. 

"C- come in!"

Eliot watched as the door opened and Margo slipped into his room, closing the door behind her. She was dressed down in her pajamas.

"Hi," she greeted, walking over and sitting with him. She raised an eyebrow. "Where is it?" she asked knowingly.

Sighing, Eliot pulled the folder back out and set it down between them.

Margo lazily flipped through it. "She's pretty," she said idly. "But..."

Eliot laughed, a bit sharp. " _But_ ," he confirmed. 

Eliot wouldn't want even the prettiest girl in the world.

"It's so messed up," Margo continued, shaking her head a few times. "Arranged marriages are so- so _outdated_."

Eliot smiled sadly and scooted closer to her. 

She sighed and wrapped an arm around him. "No offense, but your father is the worst."

He laughed, sharp and wet, turning and burying his face against her shoulder. "Tell me about it," he said, muffled.

+

The rest of the year was mostly uneventful. His father occasionally mentioned Fen, but that was it. Eliot could almost pretend the whole thing was a fever dream.

Margo and his friends talked lots about what to do, but they were just kids.

In the end, they weren't capable of actually doing anything.

Then, before he knew it, it was a few days until his fourteenth birthday. He used to be excited about his birthdays.

Not anymore. Every birthday just meant a year closer to sixteen.

One night he heard a knock at his door. He assumed it was Margo- she often visited him during the night.

He sat up. "Come in!"

The door opened and his shoulders slumped at the sight of his father.

"Hello, father," he greeted politely.

"Eliot," he greeted, closing the door and walking over. He sat in Eliot's desk chair. "I have decided perhaps I'm going about this all wrong."

Eliot perked up. "Really?" 

Maybe finally his father would accept him, call off the wedding, let him be himself.

"I have decided to invite Fen and her family to your birthday."

He blinked, blood rushing in his ears. "What?" he blurted before he could stop himself. "I- I thought I had until I was sixteen."

His father rolled his eyes. "You do," he said, waving him off. 

Eliot sighed in relief. Small victories.

"But maybe it's wrong of me to think you would want to marry a stranger. So," he smiled politely. "I decided you should get to know her a little before then."

Eliot knew he was supposed to be thankful, but. He wasn't, not even a little. "Father- "

"I just came to tell you of the news," his father interrupted, standing up. He smoothed some wrinkles out of his shirt. "Goodnight, Eliot."

He left quickly after that. 

Eliot slumped against his headboard and ignored the burning behind his eyes. 

+

"El," Margo said, uncharacteristically soft. She pet his hair. "I'm so sorry."

He sniffed and wiped roughly at his eyes. "I thought- I thought I had at least a little longer," he said quietly. "I mean- I know it makes no real difference, but. I could- I could pretend for a little longer."

She nodded, understanding. 

"How am I supposed to- " he cut himself off. "I can't, Margo, I just _can't._ "

Margo grew stiff under his weight and grabbed his shoulders. Eliot sniffled and pulled back, looking into his eyes.

"Let's run away," she said. "Me and you."

Eliot wanted to. "I- I can't," he said, soft and quiet and sad. "Where would we even go?"

She shrugged and squeezed his shoulders. "I don't care," she said, confidently. "We'll be okay as long as we're together."

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "I can't," he said, final. "But... thank you."

Margo sighed, a bit annoyed, but pulled him against her, rubbing his back. 

They quieted down after that, eventually falling asleep together in Eliot's bed.

+

On the morning of Eliot's birthday, he was dragged outside by his father to wait for Fen's arrival. He was wearing a suit. 

He wished, more than anything, Margo could be out there with them. 

When he'd asked, his father had looked at him oddly. "No, of course not."

So, he was waiting surrounded by his father and his informants and a few guards.

Finally he saw a few carriages approaching in the distance. Eliot knew how this worked, of course; the middle one probably held Fen and her family.

His father smacked him on the back and he flinched, straightening up.

The first carriage pulled up and parked, the horses huffing and stomping. A few guards climbed out. Then the second carriage pulled up and Eliot swore his heart was in his throat as he waited, watching the door.

The door opened and a woman stepped out- probably Fen's mother. She looked like her.

Eliot's father stepped forward and greeted her. "Frank," he said, shaking her head gently.

"Abigail," she replied sweetly. "A pleasure. And this- " Eliot watched as Fen appeared in the door of the carriage "- is my daughter, Fen."

He gulped audibly. 

"Nice to meet you, Fen," Frank said, smiling politely. "I hope you enjoy your stay."

Fen smiled back, just as politely. "Thank you, sir."

She jumped down form the carriage and dusted off her dress; pink and fluffy. Abigail placed a hand on Fen's shoulder, pushing her forward gently.

"Don't be shy, dear."

Fen nodded and shuffled forward, hands twisted in the fabric of her dress. "Eliot, right?"

He nodded dumbly. 

"Nice to meet you," she said, smiling again. 

Eliot thought it looked a little forced, but he didn't say anything. He cleared his throat. "Nice, uh- nice to meet you too."

The final carriage pulled up and stopped. Eliot's eyes naturally flickered over to it. He wondered briefly who would be left, after Fen and her family and their guards.

A man stepped out of the carriage and the dots connected immediately: her servants.

The man was dressed down, obviously poor. He turned around and helped a girl down. She was young, probably the servant's daughter.

Then a boy peeked his head out of the carriage and Eliot felt like the air had been punched out of him. He was also young with long, stringy hair and dirt all over his face.

"Quentin," the man chided, not unkindly, as he reached out and cleaned the boy's face with his thumb. 

Eliot watched them. _Quentin_.

+

Eliot avoided Fen until the party, spending all his time with Margo. They hid in her room (less likely to be found that way).

Her room was small, much smaller than any rooms in the royal chamber, but Eliot weirdly preferred it.

"So, is she nice?" Margo asked, rummaging through her chest of clothes. She was picking out her outfit for the party. Despite being poor, Margo always impressed.

Eliot shrugged sharply. He didn't want to talk about Fen, honestly.

Margo stopped rummaging long enough to look over at him. "El, you've been- I mean, I knew today was going to be hard for you, but. You're acting even weirder than I expected," she admitted.

He sighed softly. "Fen's main servant- he- he has a son."

Margo hummed and pulled out a beautiful, sparkly dress, admiring it. "And?"

"He's just- it's nothing," Eliot muttered, picking at a loose thread hanging from his vest.

Margo draped the dress over her bed and walked over, sitting on the floor with Eliot. "Running away is still an option," she pointed out, unhelpfully.

He shook his head with a sad laugh. 

"El," she said. "Have you stopped to think maybe Fen feels the same way?"

He admittedly hadn't. Eliot looked up at her, a little guiltily. "No."

Margo reached out and brushed a curl behind one of Eliot's ears. "You both deserve better." She sniffed angrily. "Your father still sucks, by the way."

Eliot laughed; at least he would always have Margo.

+

The party was bigger and fancier than usual. Eliot assumed his father was showing off.

He entered with Margo hanging off his arm, ignoring his father's look of disapproval. 

He'd never asked to be married off, anyway. He walked with Margo to the table full of his friends. Penny and Kady were flirting/arguing as per usual (Eliot still had a hard time telling the difference).

Josh was already stuffing his face but he looked up and grinned at their arrival. 

"So," Kady said, leaning back in her chair. "Where is she?"

Eliot ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach as he sat down. "I don't know."

Margo touched his arm. "Look," she said, pointing discreetly.

He looked over and sure enough Fen was at another table with her family and- Eliot's heart jumped into his throat, just like before.

The servant and his children were sitting at the table too, chatting with the family like old friends. Quentin was the only one who looked displeased with the whole thing.

He was curled in on himself and fidgeting with a napkin.

"You should- I don't know," Josh said, looking awkward and out of place. "Invite her to sit with us, right?"

Eliot hated the suggestion as soon as he heard it.

But maybe Margo was right- there was a chance Fen hated this arrangement too.

"Okay," he grumbled, standing up. His father would probably eventually come over and demand he do it, anyway. 

Margo grabbed his hand and squeezed, once, before letting go. "Good luck."

He smiled tightly at her before walking away and toward Fen's family. They all quieted down as he approached, smiling politely at the king's son.

"Hi," he greeted. His eyes flickered to Fen. "Would you like to sit with me and my friends?"

Fen glanced at her mother, who nodded. Smiling, she looked back at him. "Of course." Then, "do you mind if _my_ friends join?"

Eliot blinked. "Uh." 

He realized fairly quickly she was addressing the servant's son and daughter. Right.

"Sure," he said with a sharp shrug.

Quentin didn't look very excited but the daughter beamed at the news, jumping up.

"I'm Julia," she said with a bow.

Eliot couldn't help smiling a little. Julia grabbed Quentin and pulled him up by his arm.

"Q," she hissed. "Go on- introduce yourself."

He avoided eye contact with Eliot, staring at his feet. "Quentin."

"I'm sorry," Julia said with a soft sigh, ruffling Quentin's hair. She acted like an older sister but she didn't _look_ much older. "He's very shy."

Eliot smiled politely. "Well, follow me," he said, turning and leading the way.

By the time they reached the table someone had already pulled up a few more chairs.

Eliot smiled at his friends. "Guys," he said, clearing his throat and awkwardly gesturing at Fen. "This is my- uh- fiancée." 

Fen waved sheepishly. "Hi."

"Come, sit," Margo said brightly, pulling out the chair on the other side of her.

Fen hesitated for just a moment before she walked around and sat down. Eliot was, once again, so thankful for Margo. 

He sat on the other side of Margo and gestured at the remaining empty chairs.

Julia sat down with a flourish, grinning. "Hi, I'm Julia. Fen's my best friend. Well," she grabbed Quentin's hand and pulled him down into the chair beside her. " _One_ of my best friends. This is Quentin."

"Nice meeting you all," Josh said cheerily. 

After that, they mostly just ate and joked, talking amongst themselves.

Fen was... well, she was nice and kind of annoyingly well mannered but after a while she loosened up and was actually surprisingly funny.

Eliot wished he could envision a future where they were husband and wife and happy. (He couldn't.)

"So, how did you all meet?" Josh asked.

Fen looked over at Julia and Quentin with a soft, fond expression. "Quentin's father applied when we put out applications for a new servant. Since then, we've all been kind of inseparable."

"And we're basically siblings," Julia said, jostling Quentin with her elbow. "His father- Ted- he, uh, he took me in after my parents passed away."

The table grew quiet. Julia huffed.

"Come on, no sulking," she said, hugging Quentin. "They're basically the only family I've ever known. I was so young when it happened."

Eliot suddenly felt a connection with Julia, remembering his own mother's death.

He'd been so young, so confused and hurt and betrayed by the cold, unfairness of the world. He knew she was putting on a front, probably.

"I'm sorry," he said without really even meaning to.

Julia stared at him for a moment. "Thanks," she said softly.

Eliot barely even noticed Quentin was staring at him too, eyebrows pinched together.

+

After dinner, they were ushered into the ballroom.

Eliot's first instinct was, like always, to dance with Margo but one disapproving look from his father and he quickly changed directions.

He walked over to Fen and smiled tightly, extending a hand. "Dance with me?"

Fen smiled politely and took his hand. Eliot pulled her out to the middle of the ballroom just as a slow song came on.

Eliot knew his father probably had something to do with that.

He ignored the dread in his stomach and placed both his hands on Fen's narrow waist.

They danced and said nothing, just swaying and swirling through the crowds.

Finally the song changed and Fen said, "I'm sorry."

Eliot faltered for a second, halting to a stop in the middle of the ballroom. Fen squeezed his shoulder and he quickly started dancing again.

"Wh- what for?" he asked after clearing his throat.

Fen smiled and she looked sad, dejected. "I'm well aware you do not want this," she sighed lightly, "and frankly neither do I."

"Oh," he said dumbly.

Fen moved across the floor gracefully, pulling Eliot with her. "So, I'm sorry. On my mother's behalf," she clarified.

Eliot frowned. "Don't," he said, not unkindly. "None of this is your fault."

"I know," Fen replied, confidently. "It's also not your fault, but it's still not fair."

Eliot sighed and looked down before realizing right, girls have chests and any onlookers would probably be mistaken. He quickly looked back up. Fen was grinning, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Eliot," she said. "You are aware what will be expected of us after we marry, right?"

He blinked a few times. "Um."

Fen rolled her eyes. "We will be expected to have children- produce heirs."

Eliot blanched and, once again, faltered in the middle of the ballroom. A couple swept by them, nearly knocking into him. Fen steadied him with a hand on his arm.

"We- they can't- " he stumbled over his words.

Eliot was not an idiot or entirely innocent- he dreamed of things, like touching pretty boys in dark rooms but _children?_

Fen had that sad look on her face again. "It will be expected of us," she repeated, gently.

"I- I need some air," he said, stepping back from her. "I'm- I'm sorry."

Fen smiled softly and folded her hands together. "No, please, I understand."

+

Eliot knew his father was probably watching him, but he didn't care; he felt like he was suffocating, gasping for air.

He pushed through the crowds and to the balcony, opening one of the doors and slipping through the crack. 

Rushing over, he leaned over the railing and gasped for air. 

Calm down, Waugh. Calm down.

"Um. A- are you okay?" a timid voice squeaked.

Eliot couldn't breathe. He was going to die on his fourteenth birthday. What a tragedy.

"Okay, okay," the voice continued and then the sound of footsteps shuffling closer. Eliot vaguely felt a hand on his back. "In and out. You can do it."

Eliot nodded quickly and tried to listen. He took in a deep breath and slowly blew it out.

The hand on his back was warm. He focused on that.

He continued that for a couple minutes and finally started to feel better, more in control of his own body. He took one last deep breath and turned toward his savior.

"Quentin," he said, genuinely shocked by the discovery.

Quentin scrambled back a few steps. Eliot immediately missed the warmth of his hand.

"S- sorry," he said.

Eliot laughed. "Why would you be sorry?" he asked, the corners of his mouth quirking up. "Think you just saved my life."

Quentin laughed sheepishly, looking away. "Hardly," he muttered. "Just- I know what a- a panic attack is like," he continued, wringing his hands nervously. 

"Oh," Eliot said. He felt oddly sad. "Do you have them a lot?"

Quentin startled and looked at him. "Um. No. I mean- I've been getting better."

"Oh," Eliot repeated. "That's good." He meant it. Then, "what are you doing out here?"

Quentin turned away from him and glanced through the glass doors- into the ruckus of the party. "I'm not- I'm not good with parties," he admitted quietly.

Eliot nodded and leaned against the railing. "I'm usually a big fan of parties."

"But... then why are you out here?" he asked back, not unkindly.

Eliot snorted. "Well, meeting your fiancée for the first time can be kind of a shock to your system, you know?" 

He saw Quentin nod out of the corner of his eye. "That must be- I can't even imagine."

"Well, hopefully you'll never have to," Eliot said and stepped closer, nudging the other boy. "So, as one of her best friends... may I ask, what is Fen really like?"

Quentin brightened up. "Fen is- she's so sweet. I- I honestly don't know what me and Julia would do without her."

Eliot smiled, soft and genuine. "At least I'm not marrying some evil witch, huh?"

"Definitely not," Quentin replied confidently.

For a few minutes they just stood out on the balcony together and watched the party in silence. Eliot found himself enjoying it.

"I need to go back in eventually," Eliot said finally. "Or my father will get mad."

Quentin fidgeted with the hem of his suit jacket. "I- I know this is, like, probably not the proper thing to say and, like, I might get executed for it- "

Eliot raised a dark eyebrow, waiting.

"But your dad kind of scares me," he finished.

Eliot barked out a laugh. "Join the club," he said with a playful wink.

Quentin blushed and looked away.

He promptly ignored any feelings _that_ particular sight invoked in him.

"Well, I'll see you around?" Eliot said, pushing off from the railing and adjusting his jacket.

Quentin laughed bashfully and ducked his head. "Probably. You are marrying my best friend."

Eliot had somehow almost forgotten. He went back to the party.

+

The rest of the night was uneventful. Eliot talked with Fen a little longer, but after the party was over they went their separate ways. 

Fen was staying in the guest wing, after all.

Eliot collapsed on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

"Please, God," he mumbled. "Kill me now."

There was a knock at his door. Eliot rolled over and glared at it, expecting his father. "Come in."

He was flooded with relief when he saw Margo's familiar dark curls.

"Hi," she said, closing the door with a soft click. "How you holding up?"

Eliot scooted over on the bed and she walked over to join him. "I'm- surviving."

"That bad?" she asked, grabbing one of his pillows and using it.

Eliot sighed loudly and rolled back over, staring up at the ceiling again. He didn't answer; he didn't need to.

"I talked to Fen," she continued after a moment, snuggling closer. Eliot wrapped an arm around her without even having to think about it. "After you disappeared. She's- I know she's not what you want, El, but she's at least she's nice, right?"

Eliot sighed even louder. "I know," he muttered. "And I am thankful for that."

Margo laid her head on his shoulder, watching him. "Where _did_ you go, by the way?"

He thought of the rising panic, the warm hand on his back. Quentin's beautiful eyes-

No, no, no, he quickly took that thought and locked it away.

"I needed some air," he said, truthfully.

Margo sighed lightly and nodded. "She's going back home after tonight, right?"

"Mhm," Eliot answered, running his fingers through her hair idly.

"Do you think you'll see her again before- before you _know_."

Eliot laughed, on the edge of hysterical. "Honestly, I don't know. Depends on my father."

Margo sat up and gently patted his chest. "I think you need some rest," she said softly. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

He grabbed her hand and stared at her with wide, hopeful eyes. "Do you think running away is still an option?"

Margo smiled sadly. "Sweet dreams, Eliot."

+

Eliot stood outside with his father, watching as Fen and her family loaded up their things. 

"We'll see you next year," his father said, addressing Fen's mother.

Eliot frowned but didn't ask any questions yet, just turned toward Fen and smiled politely. "It was- uh, nice meeting you."

Fen smiled back. "Indeed. You're a very good dancer, Eliot."

"I'll see you next year," Fen said, repeating his father's words.

Eliot stared blankly at her.

"Did your father not tell you?" she asked. Eliot shook his head and she quickly continued, "I'll be coming back for your fifteenth birthday."

Eliot nodded slowly. Right, of course. 

"Sorry," she said again, a little too fast.

Eliot shook his head. "Like I said, not your fault." He spotted movement by the carriage; Julia and Quentin were talking animatedly. 

Fen looked over her shoulder. She hummed thoughtfully. "Don't worry," she said, facing him. "Quentin will probably be coming next year too."

He blinked, tearing his eyes away from the pair. "What?"

She smiled, a little too knowingly. For a moment she reminded him of Margo.

"Goodbye, Eliot," she said and nothing else.

Eliot watched as she walked over and joined her mother. _Huh_.

+

"I should probably tell you something," Margo said one night.

Eliot looked over at her; they were cuddling in his bed. Entirely platonic, thank you very much. "You can tell me anything."

"Um. Okay, right," Margo said, stumbling over her words, which was very unlike her. "I've been writing Fen."

Eliot blinked, genuinely not expecting _that_. "Uh. Okay?"

Margo watched him closely. "You're not- I don't know- mad?"

"Bambi," he said, "why would I be mad?"

She shrugged sharply, jostling him. "I don't know. She's your literal fiancée, for starters."

"Not by choice," he reminded her.

Margo nodded and laid her head back on his shoulder. "She really _is_ nice, Eliot."

"I know," he replied breezily. "How long have you two been talking?"

Margo sighed softly. "I don't know; we started a few weeks after she left?"

"Really?" he asked, a little hurt she hadn't told him sooner. "Margo, that was- it's been _months_."

She peered up at him. "I was worried," she said gruffly. "Don't look at me like that."

Eliot brushed some hair out of her face. "I- can I ask something crazy?"

"Absolutely," she replied, genuinely. She always humored him, like a good friend should.

He looked away, cheeks growing hot. "Do you think- do you think it'd be weird if I sent a letter?"

"To Fen?" she asked, furrowing her brows. "Um, no."

Eliot squinted at nothing in particular. He still didn't look at her. "Not her. Quentin."

"Quentin?" she asked, a little too loudly. "You mean, that dorky guy who was with Fen?"

"Okay, I get it- it'd be weird," Eliot muttered under his breath. 

Margo placed a hand on his chest. "Didn't say that," she chided. "Go for it."

"But it's- it's weird, right? We barely talked and he's- I haven't even written my own fiancée."

She rolled her eyes. "Write something for him. I'll send it with my next letter."

Eliot finally looked over at her, eyes a little wide. "Really? I mean, do you think that's- "

Margo smacked his chest and he stopped with a huff. "Stop worrying. Be impulsive. We're only young once, Eliot, and our days are numbered."

He laughed. "Okay, you've convinced me," he said.

Margo grinned, looking pleased with herself. She rolled over onto her back and closed her eyes. Eliot smiled softly and pulled the blanket up over both of them.

+

_Hello, Quentin._

_How are you? I know this might be unexpected, but. Was just curious. Thanks to your advice, I haven't had another panic attack in months._

_Signed, Eliot Waugh._

+

Margo took the letter and tucked it away with her own. "You look so nervous," she said, eyeing Eliot with amusement.

"I'm just- I don't know. He's gonna think I'm weird."

Margo rolled her eyes and licked the seal of the envelope, folding it over and closing it.

"Wait," Eliot said suddenly, reaching out and grabbing her arm. "What if he doesn't respond?"

"Eliot," she said, "calm the fuck down."

Eliot pressed his lips together and watched as she pulled out a pen and finished up. 

"There," she said, showing the envelope. "All done."

Eliot ignored the butterflies in his stomach. "My father probably expects me to be writing Fen," he muttered. His father had mentioned it once or twice.

She shrugged sharply and tucked the envelope in the waistband of her pants. "Who cares what he wants?"

"Uh," he laughed sheepishly, "most of the kingdom, for starters?"

Margo knocked their shoulders together. "Well, they should have higher standards."

+

A week later, Margo knocked at Eliot's door after dark. He rushed over and opened it.

"Is it- "

Margo lifted her hand, waving an envelope back and forth in the air. "Ready?"

They both got comfortable on Eliot's bed and he watched with wide eyes as Margo opened the envelope and pulled out not one but two letters.

She opened the first one and smiled softly before clearing her throat and setting it aside. Grabbing the other one, she opened it.

" _Dear Eliot,_ " she read, laughing when Eliot snatched it from her.

Settling back against the headboard, Eliot's eyes skimmed the page and the sloppy handwriting. His heart lurched with something like fondness.

_Dear Eliot,_

_I admittedly was not expecting to hear from you, especially when you haven't even written Fen yet. Sorry, she tells me almost everything._

_I'm glad my advice helped you, but it wasn't anything special._

_Your birthday is nearing again, right? Fen invited us again, but I thought it'd still be nice to check in with you. Your birthday should be about what you want._

_Signed, Quentin Coldwater_

Eliot swallowed around the lump forming in his throat.

_What you want._

Yeah, right, he thought with an almost bitter laugh.

Margo looked over his shoulder. "Oh, he's coming to your birthday?"

Eliot nodded without a second thought. "Hopefully."

When Margo didn't reply, he turned and startled at the look on her face. She was staring at him with narrowed, calculating eyes.

"What?" he squeaked, quickly clearing his throat.

She shrugged and turned away, cradling her own letter like it was something special. 

Eliot chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Bambi, I- we've never really talked about..." 

She looked up. "What?" she asked, a little defensively.

Eliot smiled softly and pressed their shoulders together. "I mean, you know how I feel about- about boys. How I don't feel anything for girls. But we've never talked about you." He nudged her. "What you want."

"Oh," Margo replied quietly. She pursed her lips. "I- I never thought it was important."

Eliot's heart squeezed. "What?" he asked, turning toward her. "Of course it matters."

She shrugged. "Just- it's different, Eliot," she said, not unkindly. "You're- you're soon-to-be _king_. I'm just- " she looked away. "You know. It's different."

"No," he said. "That's not true; you're amazing, Margo, and you will do incredible things."

Margo looked up at him. "I don't doubt that," she said, confidently, jutting her chin in the air, "it'll just be harder for me because of who I am and where I came from."

Eliot nodded, feeling a little like a bad friend for never really thinking of their differences. He just always thought of Margo as, well, Margo. Amazing, fearless, smart Margo. A girl capable of anything.

"I'll always be by your side," he said for lack of anything better.

Margo grinned, scrunching her nose up. "Good. You'd be lost without me."

"And- and if you don't want to tell me- "

"I like girls and boys, El," she said, just as confident as ever, unwavering.

Eliot nodded. "Okay," he said, kissing the top of her head. "Okay."

+

_Dear Quentin,_

_I would love for you and Julia to attend my fifteenth birthday. I'll see you then?_

_Signed, Eliot Waugh_

_PS: what kind of name is Quentin Coldwater?_

+

_Dear Eliot,_

_I told Julia the news (she was kind of nervous about it too) and she's beyond excited. Still don't like parties, but I'll make an exception for you. Yes, we'll see you then!_

_Signed, Quentin_

_PS: you'd die if you knew my middle name._

Eliot reread the letter a few times, grinning so big his cheeks were probably going to be sore later. He'd be seeing Quentin again in just a few weeks.

"What has you in such a good mood?" his father asked, startling him out of his thoughts.

He shoved the letter down. "Um. Just, uh- got a letter, father."

"From Fen, I'm presuming," his father said, not really a question.

Eliot smiled nervously. "Yes, father, of course." The paper crunched his grip.

"Your birthday is soon. Just one more before you are to be wed," his father said.

His good mood faltered a bit. Right. "Yes, father."

Frank left without another word, leaving Eliot alone in the courtyard. He glanced down at the letter and loosened his grip, carefully smoothing out the creases.

A year. He had a year before he would be married to a girl he had no real feelings for.

Eliot squeezed his eyes shut and took a shaky breath. For the kingdom, his father would say. Like his happiness wasn't important. 

"Eliot?" Margo interrupted his brooding, walking over. She'd been raking the courtyard, obviously. "Oh. You got another letter?"

He blinked. "Um. Yes, didn't you?"

Eliot's eyebrows drew together as he noticed the shift in Margo's expression; from sad to resigned. She held her head up high. 

"No," she said.

Eliot blinked again. "You and Fen have stopped talking?"

"She stopped replying recently," Margo muttered, looking away and idly kicking a rock. "It's- " she looked back up with a sniff. "It's no big deal."

Eliot knew Margo better than that. She more she cared, the more she pretended she didn't. "Bambi," he said, standing up.

She squared her shoulders. "I said it was no big deal. I- I gotta go finish, okay?"

He watched sadly as she scurried off. Maybe Fen wasn't as nice as they'd originally thought.

+

_Dear Quentin,_

_I hope you are well aware that you have got to tell me your middle name now, right? Like I won't be able to rest until I know._

_On a more serious note, I have a question to ask: do you know if something happened between Margo and Fen?_

_Apparently, Fen stopped replying recently. Margo seems pretty upset and I can't blame her. I think I'd be pretty sad too if you stopped replying._

_Signed, Eliot_

+

_Dear Eliot,_

_Fine but if you laugh at me when I see you next... My full name is Quentin Makepeace Coldwater._

_Also, I have a pretty good idea what's going on. But honestly, it's not my place to say._

_Also, also, yeah, I'd probably be pretty sad too. I'm sorry I couldn't be more help._

_Signed, Quentin_

+

Eliot wasn't going to push, so he dropped the subject and they continued sending letters back and forth until finally it was the day of his birthday.

He got dressed with Margo and they admired themselves in the big mirror in his room.

She was wearing a thin, sparkly purple dress that popped against her skin. Eliot was wearing a matching purple suit. His father would probably complain, but neither of them cared.

"I'm officially fifteen," he muttered. "One more year until..."

Margo patted his back. "Come on, help me with my shoes."

A few hours later and Fen and her family arrived. Eliot was standing outside with his father and greeted her awkwardly.

He couldn't help being angry at her for how she'd treated Margo, ignoring her so suddenly.

But he played nice if only because his father was watching them like a hawk.

"You look amazing," he said. 

Fen smiled tightly. "Thank you," she said. "You look... nice."

Then Eliot spotted a mop of familiar brown hair and his heart did something funny. He walked away from Fen without a word and approached Quentin.

He looked amazing. Better than before with a proper suit and his hair pulled back.

"Hi," Eliot greeted.

Quentin smiled shyly. "Hi."

"It's nice seeing you again," Eliot continued, eyes sparkling, "Quentin Makepeace- "

Quentin groaned and hung his head. "I knew you weren't doing to be cool about it," he complained but the corners of his mouth quirked up.

"You told him your middle name?" Julia said, popping up beside him. "Ohh, must be seri- "

Quentin sharply elbowed her in the side. "Jules," he hissed. "Go, Fen needs you."

Julia gave him an unimpressed look but walked away and joined Fen anyway.

+

The party was awkward. All the adults cleared out after dinner and left the teenagers on their own. Margo was obviously upset, no matter what she said, ignoring Fen.

Fen looked uncomfortable and a little upset herself. 

Eliot had no idea what to do. All he _wanted_ to do was spend all his time with Quentin, who Eliot was pretty sure was flirting with him.

Laughing at his stupid jokes and shyly ducking his head. Each laugh, each look, made Eliot feel a little lightheaded. But in a good way.

But there was no ignoring the tension between Margo and Fen, and Margo was his best friend. He had to do something.

"I'll be right back," he told Quentin.

Quentin looked vaguely disappointed, shoulders slumping. "Oh, okay."

Eliot smiled and walked away, stopping in front of Fen. Fen, who was fidgeting with the fabric of her oversized, fluffy dress. 

"Hey, can we talk?"

Fen looked up and nodded.

"Alone, if that's okay," he continued and she nodded again. He led them out of the ballroom and out onto the balcony. "I- I know it's none of my business," he started immediately once they were alone, "but Margo is my best friend and- "

Fen let out a sudden, unexpected sob. 

Eliot abruptly stopped. "Um."

She reached up and wiped at her eyes. "Sorry, sorry, it's just- this is really- hard on me."

Eliot leaned against the railing, watching her with softer, concerned eyes. "Okay," he said slowly. "What, exactly?"

"It's not- " Fen sniffed loudly and looked away, squinting at nothing in particular. "It's not something I should be discussing with my future husband," she said, spitting out the last word like it was an insult.

Eliot winced.

"Sorry," she quickly said. 

He smiled sheepishly. "No, no need. Fen, if- if we have no choice but to do this I want us to- I don't know." He shrugged sharply. "At least feel like we can be honest with each other. I think we're both well aware this isn't what the other person wants."

Fen nodded slowly. "I stopped exchanging letters with Margo because- because I can't do _this_ ," she said, gesturing a bit wildly. "I can't lead her on and- and give us both false hope." She lifted her head up. "Because we could never be together."

Eliot stumbled a bit. "Wait, what?"

She looked stricken for a second. "Margo hasn't told you?"

"I- no," he admitted. Fen looked mortified and he quickly continued, "I'm not mad, Fen."

Fen nodded again. "Oh, okay, good."

Eliot looked over her shoulder, peering through the glass doors into the ballroom. Quentin was dancing with Julia, laughing and spinning her around. His heart squeezed painfully and he looked away.

"You have feelings for him, don't you?" she asked softly.

Eliot laughed sadly. "Maybe, but." He shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"It should," she said firmly. "We shouldn't have to do this. We're humans too, Eliot."

Eliot looked up and smiled, a little sad. "I can tell Margo has rubbed off on you," he muttered. "You sound just like her."

Fen flushed and looked down, tucking some hair behind one of her ears. 

"We're servants in our own way," Eliot said with a sharp shrug. "We just serve our kingdom."

Fen looked up. "We don't have to be," she said. "If we just- "

"What?" he interrupted, a little sharply. 

Fen's shoulders fell. "I don't know," she admitted quietly. 

Eliot sighed and looked away, folding his arms over his chest. "We should go back in."

+

Fen and her family were staying the night. Good, because Eliot had something he needed to do. He stopped by Margo's room on his way.

"I'm going to go talk to my father," were the first words out his mouth.

Margo sat up on her bed, eyes a little wide. "Um. Okay? About what?"

"I'm- you'll find out," he said. 

Margo climbed off her bed and walked over, wrapping her arms around him. "El, it doesn't matter what you do: I'll always be your biggest supporter."

He rubbed her back lightly. "I know you like Fen," he blurted before he could stop himself.

Margo pulled back like she'd been slapped. "I- Eliot," she said. 

Eliot leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. "I'm not mad," he said, honestly. "I'm- I'm glad if anything. You deserve to be happy."

She frowned. "But that's not an option," she said blandly. "Soon, she'll be your wife."

Eliot stepped back and held his head high. "Maybe, maybe not," he said, hoping he sounded confident.

Margo pressed her lips together. "El, you don't have to- "

"It's not just for you," he interrupted softly. "It's for me too. I have to- I have to try."

She reached out and touched his arm, soft and comforting, smiling encouragingly.

"Wish me luck," he said. 

+

He knocked and waited for his father's permission to come in. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, opening the door.

Frank was sitting at his desk, looking over paperwork. 

"Father," he said.

He looked over at him. "Eliot," he said, turning the chair and smiling tightly. "You don't visit me very often. To what do I owe this honor?"

Eliot gently closed the door behind him and stepped closer. "I do not have feelings for Fen."

Frank raised an eyebrow. "Such trivial things do not matter," he said plainly. 

Eliot swallowed around the nervous lump in his throat. "I think they do," he said, honestly. He didn't wait for his father's reply. "I will not be marrying her."

"That is not your decision," his father said tersely. "Never has been."

Eliot's hands curled into fists. "Well, the system is broken," he said. "I'm fixing it."

Frank sighed heavily. "Eliot, can we please do not do this? Go back to your room."

"No," he replied quickly. "Call off the engagement."

Frank laughed dryly. "You think _you_ can tell _me_ what to do?"

"Maybe, maybe not," he said, relaxing a little. "But I am in control of myself and if you do not do this for me, I will _not_ stop fighting you. Every step of the way, making a fool of this family during public events. Who knows," he extended his arms out with a flourish, "I might even destroy the kingdom."

Frank narrowed his eyes. "Eliot, you have got to be kidding me. I have been nothing but a good father and this- this is how you repay me?"

Eliot laughed sharply and stepped even closer. "Good? Please, you don't even _know_ me."

"I know everything I need to know," he retorted.

Eliot shook his head. "You don't even know I have feelings for someone else."

Frank stiffened. "Who?" he asked, "is it that little- Margo, was it?"

"Yes, her name is Margo and you should know that by now, considering we've been best friends since her father started working for us," he said. "You're- " he cut himself off and took a deep, steadying breath. "No, it's not her. It's- " he held his head high, no going back now. "Fen's friend; Quentin."

Frank frowned deeply. "Eliot, I thought you'd- you'd gotten over- " he gestured "- _that_."

"No, father," he replied. "I did not stop being gay at any point just because of your disapproval. And listen, I get it- you don't want the kingdom knowing your only son is gay," he smiled ruefully. "Fine. Don't make me get married and I will keep my relationship with Quentin behind closed doors. Don't, and I will go into town and fuck him right in front of- "

"Eliot!" his father snapped, interrupting him, face red with anger.

He shrugged. "Unlike you, father, I am giving you a _choice_. Pick one."

Frank stared at him. "Go to bed, Eliot. We'll discuss this in the morning."

Eliot stared back, unwavering. Margo would be proud. "Sleep well, father."

+

At breakfast, his father stood up and tapped a spoon against his glass. "I have an announcement," he said, clearing his throat. "After discussing things with Fen's mother, we have both decided the engagement is officially called off."

Eliot looked up from his untouched breakfast, blood rushing in his ears.

"What?" he blurted.

His father leveled with him with a hard look. "It was the right thing to do," he said between clenched teeth.

Eliot looked over at Fen first, who was staring back at him. She laughed once, softly, relief pouring off her.

Then- then he looked at Quentin, and he was also staring back at him with wide eyes.

Eliot smiled, just a little, hoping- _praying_ he'd been reading Quentin right.

Quentin smiled back shyly, cheeks dusted pink. Eliot's chest fluttered with something.

_Hope_ , his brain supplied.

A gasp and he looked up and realized Margo was standing in the doorway. 

He grinned at her. She grinned back and roughly scrubbed her eyes. Because Margo Hanson was _not_ a crier.

+

  
"I'm so happy for you," Margo said after breakfast, hugging him so, so tight. 

He hugged her back, burying his face in her hair. "I- um. I have something I should probably tell you," he said, pulling back and brushing some hair out of her face. "It's not my place, exactly, but."

Margo watched him closely. "What is it, Eliot?"

Eliot chewed on his bottom lip and sighed. "Never mind. Just- go find Fen after this, okay?"

"Um." Margo's cheeks were dusted pink. "Okay? You- you really don't mind?"

Eliot kissed her forehead. "Not at all. I have a boy with stupid floppy hair I need to find."

Margo nodded and kissed his cheek before running off. Eliot watched her around a corner with fond, warm eyes before he turned away and went in search of Quentin.

He found him on the balcony, peering out over the railing.

Eliot's heart skipped a beat. He looked so beautiful, his hair long swaying in the wind.

"Quentin, I- "

He startled and spun around. Eliot smiled sheepishly. "Sorry if I scared you," he said, genuinely, walking closer.

Quentin shook his head. "No. I'm just- That was unexpected, huh?"

"Not really," he replied, honestly. "I basically threatened my father to call off the engagement."

Quentin's eyes widened. "What? Really?" Then, a little softer, "why?"

Eliot sighed and took a step even closer. "Quentin, thank you." He smiled, soft and sincere. "For helping me that first night and for- for giving me the final push I needed to stand up to my father."

"Oh," he breathed, blushing. "Um. Of course? But what- what did I do?"

Eliot took a deep breath and went for it, "I have a crush on you, Quentin Makepeace- "

Quentin's hands flew up and covered Eliot's mouth. "If you ask me out using my full name, I will turn you down on principal," he said, but he was smiling, "and, um. Well, um- I don't really want to do that. Because," he slowly lowered his hands. "I kind of think I have a crush on you too."

"Okay," Eliot said, suppressing a grin. He cleared his throat. "Quentin, do you mind if I kiss you right now?"

Quentin didn't answer; he just leaned forward and pecked Eliot's lips. When he pulled away, he was grinning, showing off his dimples.

"This won't be easy, you know," he said, quietly. "My father is- well, you've met him."

Quentin nodded quickly. "I- I understand. I still want to do this. If- if you do."

Eliot smiled, soft and warm. "Oh, I want. I've never wanted anything more, frankly."

"Okay," Quentin said, giggling. He was flushed; the prettiest person Eliot had ever seen. "Do- do you think Fen and Margo are working things out?"

Eliot reached out and took Quentin's hand. "Wanna go find out?"

"Uh, duh," Quentin answered, squeezing his hand lightly.

+

"I think the kingdom needs a king like you," Margo said a few days later.

His father had suddenly grown sick. Eliot almost wished he could be sad; he wasn't. 

He wrapped an arm around Margo and hugged her. "You'll help me, right?"

"We all will," Fen said, stepping forward. Margo reached out and took one of her hands.

Eliot looked back over his shoulder and grinned. "Come here. Both of you."

Quentin stepped forward and Eliot quickly wrapped his other arm around his waist, yanking him closer. Quentin squeaked and laughed.

"God, I need a boyfriend," Julia complained, joining them and resting her head on Quentin's shoulder.

Quentin hummed. "Or a girlfriend."

Julia nodded. "Or a girlfriend," she confirmed with a sigh.


End file.
